


A Very Serious Surprise

by Banana_daiquiri



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, Holiday Fic Exchange, Secret Santa, christmas tree hunting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-07
Updated: 2015-12-07
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:30:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5372033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banana_daiquiri/pseuds/Banana_daiquiri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose implement an iconic Christmas tradition.</p><p>Written for greatbigouterspacedunce over on Tumblr. Merry Xmas!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Serious Surprise

***

"Can't believe it's already Christmas again," Rose said, gazing into the time rotor. Her face was bathed in a green glow, and the Doctor couldn't fail to notice that she seemed a bit melancholy.

"Well, that's the way it goes in the TARDIS," the Doctor said. "Could be Christmas all year, if you wanted it to. So when it comes 'round again it feels like it just ended because basically...it did."

"Yeah, but proper Christmas," Rose clarified. "Powell Estate Christmas. Christmas crackers and pudding and clementines."

The Doctor smiled softly, enjoying Rose's sense of tradition and the cozy way she considered her own time and its progression of events the most "real." Surely they were most relevant to her. And, therefore…perhaps to him as well.

Rose sighed.

"What's wrong?" the Doctor murmured.

She shrugged one shoulder. "Dunno, it's just, hard not to think of home."

"We can go for a visit. Any time you'd like, just say the word. You know we'll spend Christmas with Jackie--we always do."

Rose sat on the jump seat, and the Doctor took his place next to her, watching the thoughts play across her face. He turned toward her, resting his right ankle on his left knee, his arm across the back of the seat.

"I know. It's good to see Mum. We never had anything fancy for Christmas, but it was always nice. Still, I always felt a bit...sad for 'er. You know? I never said. Probably couldn't've put it into words if I'd tried. I was too little. But I think she was really aware he wasn't there, ya know? Guess we both were."

She didn't have to specify who she meant. The Doctor nodded.

"When I was a kid...." the light faded a bit from her eyes as her gaze shifted from his and she stared over his shoulder into the middle distance. "I guess it's silly, yeah? But I'd watch these movies where the family'd go out and cut down a tree, an' I remember thinkin' that if Dad was around, he'd bring us to do that." She sniffed through her nose, a self-deprecating little laugh, as though the very idea was silly.

The expression on his face had turned to something contemplative and disquieted, but he still put the air of humor into his next question. "So you want to go cut down a tree?"

"I know...'s a bit much. Kinda, barbaric or somethin', yeah?"

"A lot of traditions are a bit barbaric. I could list them--don't get me started." He glanced over at her and saw the distracted, melancholic look in her eyes, and he nudged her with the toe of his trainer, smiling warmly at her when she finally looked at him. She smiled back, and he felt a familiar warmth bloom in his chest. "We don't have to cut one down. Lots of places sell them pre-cut. They even have trees that decorate themselves."

"You're having me on."

"It's true. The inspiration for the tree in 'A Charlie Brown Christmas' was an alien plant from Vardaprashta. Ever notice how 'all of a sudden' it has foliage just because they decorated it? Nope, Schulz definitely knew some Vardaprashtans."

"So what you're sayin' is, we could get a tree like that? I dunno, Doctor...'s kinda creepy."

“Well.” He sniffed casually in thought and flapped the hand that was resting on the back of the jump seat. "We can go cut down a tree," he said so easily it was almost dismissive.

Suppressed joy was trying to bubble up through one of her tongue-touched grins as she looked up at him. "Really?" This was one of those days where she'd chosen to wear messy braided pigtails, and he had to fight down a smile at how cute she looked. Wait, no he didn't--he smiled.

And since when did he, a 903-year-old alien, think of anything or anyone as 'cute'? It was rather undignified. Embarrassing.

Amazing, sort of.

"Well, why not? We'll cut down a tree, then plant more and hop ahead to see how they've grown."

She launched herself at him, and he caught her, surprised, and laughed. She pulled back abruptly and leapt up from the seat. “I’m gonna go find my mittens.”

The Doctor, wearing a crooked grin, watched Rose Tyler scurry off down the corridor toward her room. Then, slowly, he stood and approached the console. He tilted his head back and stared up at the time rotor, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “What am I doing?” he groaned.

***

The Doctor was standing in front of the door, one hand on each railing of the ramp, blocking Rose’s exit.

“Now listen, I’m serious,” he said. “Stay with me. You can’t wander off.”

Rose laughed. “Please, Doctor. I’m not two, you know.”

He gave her _a look._

“Okay, I’ve got a history of wandering off. But not today, all right? Now can we go?”

He straightened, tucking his hands in his pockets under his coat, puffing his chest out with a held breath.

“What is it?” Her brow knit. “What aren’t you tellin’ me? Doctor?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You don’t look very…surprise-y.”

“It’s a very serious surprise,” he said. He had that wide-eyed look. He was waiting for her unflinching agreement on the not-wandering-off bit. He just wasn’t telling her the truth about why it was so important.

“All right,” she said slowly.

“No matter what, stay with me.” He offered her his elbow, and she hooked her own around it, her eyes never leaving his face, her lips parted slightly. _Now_ she was nervous.

The Doctor, apparently satisfied, turned without further ceremony and opened the door onto a snowy landscape.

“The Norway Spruce was the traditional Victorian Christmas tree,” the Doctor lectured as they stepped outside into the brisk air. Immediately a cold breeze blew hair across Rose’s face, and she palmed it back from her face with her mitten, smiling as she followed along behind him, basking in his informational mode. “It’s prickly, though, not as soft as it looks. Could cause chafing. A rash! However much you may want to, Rose Tyler, do not…um…cuddle a tree.”

She shook her head, giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’ve been told that from time to time.”

The Doctor sauntered his way between the trees, evaluating. The Christmas tree farm they’d landed at was busy; kids ran about, adults laughed, complimentary hot chocolate and apple cider was doled out. The Doctor ordered them both peppermint hot cocoa with whipped cream and candy-cane bits, and Rose laughed when he got whipped cream on his nose and tried his best to lick it off when he very well could have used the back of his (ungloved “Superior body-temperature regulating faculties come standard in this model,”) hand.

She knew it wasn’t really _that_ funny…but she was happy. Very happy. And, she thought, gazing at him over the rim of her mug with sparkling eyes, she loved him. The conscious thought was almost enough to sober her. Instead, she focused on swallowing the rich chocolate, and her gaze traveled to her left, through the steam of her cocoa, to the trees wrapped in their sparkling lights, dusted with powdery snow and waiting to be cut. And saw….

Slowly, Rose lowered her mug, cocoa forgotten. She unconsciously licked whipped cream from her upper lip, and the Doctor followed her lead, lowering his mug and turning slightly to see where her gaze was directed. She felt his hand fall softly on her arm; it could have been in warning, but it felt more like the touch you might give someone in acknowledgment of their emotional state.

Rose would consider that, later on, when she was alone again: the Doctor probably did understand her emotional state in that moment. Better than anyone else could. But she wished he didn’t.

Wandering between the trees two rows away, she had caught a glimpse of her mother and father, talking animatedly, laughing. They were so _young._

“Doctor,” Rose breathed, her voice strangled. “You didn’t.”

He said nothing.

“Can I….” She hesitated and glanced at him. “Can I get closer?”

He smiled slightly, but his eyes were busy, a hundred things happening in them at once. He looked sad, and he looked like he understood, and he looked like he didn’t want to understand, but that he did want to understand with her.

And that was the truth.

Hardly breathing, Rose set her cup aside. The Doctor did as well, and they clasped hands. Rose’s fingers felt numb inside her gloves, but not from the cold. They walked along, Rose moving slowly as though trying not to frighten birds from the trees.

“It’s all right,” the Doctor assured her quietly. “They won’t recognize you. You can act as you normally would. You just can’t touch them.”

Rose looked at him questioningly, still shell-shocked.

“She’s carrying you,” the Doctor said, eyebrows raised as he nodded toward Jackie. “Four weeks.”

“She….” Rose stopped, her hand going to her mouth as she watched Pete point out the scrawniest tree and pretend to be serious about selecting it, while Jackie batted at his shoulder, laughing.

The whole time she was watching her parents, the Doctor was watching her face closely, gauging her reaction, ready to intervene at the first sign of…well, the need to intervene.

Rose had frozen where she was, her hand limp in the Doctor’s as they followed her young parents around while they browsed tree after tree. Jackie kept shaking her head. Finally, at the end of the fifth row, she found one she liked, and Pete stepped behind her, giving his approval and sliding his hand fondly over her belly, pulling her close to him.

Rose gasped, and when the Doctor’s eyes flicked back to her, he saw that tears were pouring down her face.

“I hope those are happy tears,” the Doctor said.

Rose pried her eyes from her parents to finally look at him. “You…you’re trusting me. Why?”

He laughed quietly, more just a shaking of his shoulders than anything else. He rubbed her fingers between his own. “I always _trust_ you, Rose.”

“You’re breaking your rules for me.” She was searching his face urgently. “Why?”

“Because….” the Doctor laughed, sounding vaguely uncomfortable, and looked away with a shrug. He rubbed the back of his neck, ruffled his hair. “It’s…Christmas?”

Rose looked away again, watching her parents arrange for their transaction with one of the employees.

“Anyway, your parents…they did do those things you imagine. He would have taken you to do something like this.”

“How…when did you figure all this out?”

“I spied. Like any good time traveller. Mind you, the TARDIS might have helped some. She knows more than we do–what happens when. How else do you think we end up where we’re needed despite having aimed for somewhere else? It’s not just my bad driving.” He tapped his temple. “Telepathically connected to her, so I put in a request and did what I needed to in the time it took you to put your gloves on.” He smiled his somehow endearingly smug grin. “Anyway, I’ll tell you, Jackie has some mad food cravings. Sort of explains your preoccupation with pickles. Anyway, she sends Pete out at all hours. And he just goes.” He raised his eyebrows, watching the couple, the pitch of his voice raising a bit as he added, “like a beaten puppy dog.”

When Rose said nothing, he glanced at her again to find that she was crying harder now, but still silently, and fishing in her pockets for a tissue. Wordlessly, he reached into his trans-dimensional coat and offered her his travel-sized pack. She plucked a couple kleenex out and blew her nose.

“The worst part about this,” she choked stuffily, “is that you’re ruining all future Christmases for anyone else. Who’ll top a present like this once you’re gone?” she hiccupped.

“Hey,” the Doctor said, astonished, tucking the packet back in his pocket and turning to her. He chucked her softly under the chin, and she reluctantly made eye contact. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m still here.”

Rose’s shoulders hitched. She blew a long breath out through her lips, blinking. “For how long?”

The Doctor frowned, swallowing. He lowered his eyes, thinking through what he had set up. Of course Rose was upset; seeing her father had only reminded her of how transitory people could be. “I don’t know,” he murmured.

“Well, maybe I don’t want you to leave.”

The Doctor looked at her again, blinking, and opened his mouth—to say what, he wasn’t sure. Probably nothing would be good. Nothing would be perfect. “I….” Boy, that sounded a lot like a croak.

She watched him, waiting.

He shook his head. “I don’t _want_ to leave.”

She barked a soft, bitter laugh. “But you will.”

“Rose Tyler….” The Doctor gripped her shoulders and pulled her back between the trees, out of the way of the rest of the shoppers. “I’m going to tell you something important, now. Something you already know.”

She was watching him, her chin consciously stiff.

“We don’t know how long we get to have the people in our lives. It’s a sad fact. I think sometimes you wonder if I know that, but I do. Oh, I do. I know it more than I want to.”

Rose felt the Doctor fumbling for her hand, and once again, she clasped it.

“What’s more sad to me is that you came to understand it at such a very young age,” he continued. “That man over there….” He nodded toward the Tylers again, “would be _so proud_ to know you. To know who you are…to see this you. Whatever he could have imagined for you, whatever he could have imagined you to be, it couldn’t possibly match up to the reality of the woman standing in front of me.”

Rose chewed her lower lip, fighting back tears again.

“If you think I’m going to let go of you so easily, then you’re a _complete_ nutter,” he said, shaking his head sympathetically.

Rose laughed loudly. “I’m in good company, then.”

The Doctor grinned, stepping forward again, and pulled her into a tight hug.

They stood there for a long while, eyes squeezed shut, each basking in the comforting scent of the other in the crisp winter air. The feeling of clothing under hands, the rough texture of a knitted hat against a cheek, the tickle of damp fringe against a hot temple.

“Awww Pete…seems there’re a couple’a love birds amongst the trees, eh?”

Rose would know her mum’s voice anywhere. She opened her eyes, releasing the Doctor, and turned around to see Jackie and Pete, who had completed their purchase and were waiting while their tree was tied to their car.

“At that rate, mate, the place is gonna close before you pick your prize,” Pete teased the Doctor.

“Maybe you’d like to help us, then?” the Doctor bantered back.

“Sure. That one to your left.”

The Doctor evaluated the tree in question. He nodded vigorously. “What say, Rose? Have we rooted out our tree?”

He knew her well enough to see and sense her stiffness as the two others would not; she was afraid. After the incident with the reapers, she was very conscious of what sort of damage could be wrought if she did or said the wrong thing.

And he trusted her implicitly.

“Aye, Captain, looks good to me,” Rose said with faux bravado.

“Oooooh,” crooned Jackie. Rose and the Doctor turned in time to see her jab Pete in the ribs with one sharp elbow, leaving him wincing and rubbing his side. “That’s a lovely name, Pete! Rose, innit?” she clarified, smiling at her daughter.

Struck mute, all Rose could do was nod.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” Jackie, preoccupied now, was shepherding her husband off to their car. “Right?" she gasped. "Rose Marion Tyler. I'm not taking no for an answer.”

Pete already had his hands raised in surrender as they walked away.

Rose turned to the Doctor. “Are you tellin’ me I’m named after myself?”

The Doctor grinned widely. “I’d say it’s an honor.”

Rose looked absolutely stricken.

The smile fell off the Doctor’s face. “Rose? What’s wrong?”

“How could I ever possibly tell you how much you mean to me?” she whispered, searching his eyes.

The two of them stood frozen in the snow, gazing at each other as soft flakes whisked around them in the breeze and families continued to bustle through the marketplace, making their holiday plans.

“I imagine….” The Doctor swallowed, then tried again. “I imagine you don’t need to.”

She just kept looking at him.

“I imagine I know, somehow. I imagine that because...I feel the same,” he added, his voice low. He tugged on the sides of her coat and she fell in closer to him, but neither made another move. They were like stars orbiting; like gravity. Her head moved, his angled, and the kiss just sort of happened. Slowly at first, tentative, then deeper and warmer, and they were clutching each other like utter separation had been threatened.

By the time they pulled apart, Jackie and Pete had long since gone, the market crowd had thinned out a little, and both of them had red lips.

“Now that’s time travel,” the Doctor rumbled.

“What is?”

“The way I lost time just now.” He continued to gaze at her, and moved his hand up to cup her cheek. Rose leaned into it. “It felt like five minutes passed. It was probably more like thirty.”

Rose smiled. “They say time flies when you’re having fun.”

“I’d rather have fun flying through time. With Rose Tyler. In my TARDIS,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows, and she gave him a tongue-touched grin that made him want to bend to her again. He resisted, and instead set about having their tree brought down expediently. He was careful to specify that he didn’t need help bringing it to his vehicle. That was a ball of wax he didn’t feel like delving into tonight, thankyouverymuch.

***

They sat back on their elbows on the floor in the library, laid out before their tree. They had decorated it with fruit and ribbons and baubles and soft white lights, and it cast long, thin rays of light across the carpet and their faces in the semi-darkness. The only light in the room came from the fireplace some distance behind them.

The Doctor wiggled his fingers, tickling Rose’s, and they glanced sidelong at each other. “I believe we have another date to keep,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Trees to plant and watch grow. Many seedlings to be seen to.”

“All right.” Rose wiggled closer to him and he put one arm around her, without warning, pulling her back with him onto the carpet and hugging her tightly.

She laughed and squealed, trying to pull away.

“Don’t be so quick to leave,” he said, low in her ear. Rose shivered all over. It didn’t help when he pulled her earlobe between his lips.

She went limp. “Doctor….”

“Mmm?”

She pulled back to look at him, forcing him to relinquish her earlobe, making him moan in protest. She grinned at his pout. “Thank you. For being amazing.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear. “Just returning the favor.”

“Technically,” Rose whispered conspiratorially, “it’s Christmas. It’s 12:04am TARDIS time.”

“That TARDIS time zone is authoritative,” he agreed. “Merry Christmas, Rose Tyler. Might I ask what’s at the top of your Christmas list?”

Rose bit her lower lip, waiting for him to notice that she’d popped a couple of his oxford buttons open. After a minute, it registered.

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Then, quite pleased, “Oh. I can work with that.”


End file.
